Albus Potter and the Mirror of Magic
by gracestclair
Summary: The magic continues...
1. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Chapter One

Aboard the Hogwarts Express

"How much longer, James?" Albus asked.

James groaned, for it was the sixth time that his little brother had asked him the very same question. "It's been twelve minutes since you last asked, you git. Use your head."

"Twelve minutes ago, James said it was about another hour, " piped Rosie Weasley, the boys' cousin, "so if you subtract twelve, thirteen now, from sixty and add in the extra stops and decrease in speed, it'll be about-"

"Rose!" James hissed, putting his hand over her mouth. "Shut it!"

Rosie gaped at him, astounded at his lack of respect. " _Excuse_ me?"

"Don't be so touchy, and Albus needs to start using his head, the idiot." He replied.

"Must you be so controlling, James? And did you just call me "touchy"?" she snapped.

Albus, sat quietly, waiting for them to stop. _It shouldn't be long,_ he thought. He recalled the Christmas before last, when James visited home, gloating profusely about being a "brave and mighty Gryffindor". Rosie had glared at him, stating that nowadays, only big-headed morons belonged in Gryffindor (James and Albus's dad had winced at that remark), and that Ravenclaw was far better, for students there actually had brains.

Albus chuckled to himself, thinking of how they had moved their argument outside and started a rather violent snowball war. After a while, the whole family joined in and it turned into one of the best Christmases.

This was normal behavior for both James and Rosie. They constantly bickered. But this was starting to get out of hand.

"Know-it-all!" James roared.

"At least I'm not a moron...LIKE YOU!" Rose screamed.

"Pet!"

"Faggot!"

"You BITCH!" he spat.

"You _son of a_ bitch!" Rosie shrieked, her eyes flashing.

After another ten minutes of yelling and insults, Albus decided that that was enough. "Rose-" he started. "James-" They weren't listening. "Guys- STOP!" But on and on they went. Intervening, he concluded, was no use.

Albus slumped in his seat, watching tree after tree fly past his window. This was the fasted trolley he had ever been on. If it weren't for the deafening shouts and screams, Albus would probably be having fun. _I should be excited,_ he thought, _I'm going to Hogwarts for the sake of Scamander!_ He glowered at them, still in a heated argument.

He turned around and went back to staring out the window. In the distance, Albus saw the faint outline of an enormous structure. As it came into view, he gasped. It was Hogwarts.


	2. The Beginning of a Magical Year

Chapter Two

The Beginning of a Magical Year

The first thing Albus noticed about his new school was its size. He'd never imagined Hogwarts to be _this_ big. There were paintings on the walls that came to life, stairs that shifted on their own, candles that lit themselves, and even ghosts! Real ghosts! Albus walked around with the other first years, just outside the Great Hall, gaping at the many magnificent features. He was a bit nervous, not knowing anyone except Rose, but it seemed all the other children felt the same way.

"Silence, please," a sharp voice said. The excited buzz quieted as everyone turned toward the speaker. She was a tall woman, dressed in a dark cloak, and a pointy black hat with a rather pointy nose to compliment her hat. (Albus preferred to say _woman_ instead of _witch,_ he felt rude saying "witch".)

Rosie leaned toward Albus. "I think that that's the granddaughter of Minerva McGonagall. She was the headmistress when our parents were students here."

The pointed lady spoke again, "I am Arabella McGonagall, _Professor_ McGonagall to you, the headmistress of Hogwarts. Albus nudged Rose at the name "McGonagall", giving her a smile, which she proudly returned. "Now", McGonagall continued, "please line up in a straight line as I call your names. Abel, Marcus," she called scanning the crowd of first years.

A boy with dark brown hair and blue eyes stepped forward. "That's me," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing.

"Well, what did I say? Get in line!" McGonagall laughed.

Marcus shuffled forward, embarrassed, and stood at the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Alright, next: Abel, Lana. Ah, twins!" A girl with similar features stepped forward and got in line behind her brother.

The list went on until finally Professor McGonagall announced, "Potter, Albus." The crowd murmured, obviously knowing about the ridiculously famous Harry Potter, who saved the world from Voldemort.

Albus put his head down, his face warming and scurried behind "Packart, Matilda".

At last, when Rose was called, it was time to enter the Great Hall. Time for the Sorting Hat to choose where they belong. Albus tensed, nervous about his selection. Earlier, he had been worried about being placed in Slytherin, but had talked to his father and was no longer anxious. On that matter, at least. Thoughts clouded his brain. What if the Sorting Hat didn't care where Albus wanted to be? What if he was put in Hufflepuff? What if...he didn't belong anywhere. Albus's pulse quickened, and his breath became short. He glanced back at his cousin, a million "what if's" running through his head. Rose, seeming to read his mind, gave Albus a reassuring smile and a quick thumbs-up.

Albus took in a deep breath as the doors opened, and holding it he stepped into the Great Hall.


	3. Gryffindor or Slytherin?

Chapter Three

Gryffindor or Slytherin?

"Potter, Albus."

Albus swallowed his fear and started walking towards the little, creaky stool the held the Sorting Hat. It seemed miles away and it felt like everyone was staring at him as he made his was toward the front of the Great Hall.

After what seemed like hours, Albus reached his destination. He took a breath. _In, out_. He approached the stool, carefully picked up the old, battered Hat, sat down, and placed it on his head.

He waited, and waited. Finally a tiny voice in his head said, "a Potter, I presume? Just think your response. Say it out loud and everyone will think you're a load o' codswallop, right?"

 _Okay,_ Albus thought, _and yes, my name is Albus Potter._

"Knew it! You have an excellent head. Lot's like your father!" the Hat exclaimed.

 _Where do I belong?,_ he inquired.

"Where do you want to belong?"

Albus knew his father wanted him to be a Gryffindor. He hadn't said it, but it was rather obvious. Even though, Albus had a strange tugging sensation at the bottom of his stomach.

 _Um, I-I think I want to be in Slytherin._

"You sure?"

 _I think. Yes._

"Slytherin!" the Hat announced.

Albus took it off and placed back down on the stool. He turned around only to find everyone staring at him, completely blown away by his decision. He quickly averted his eyes and sat down at the Slytherin table. After the initiating surprise they erupted into cheer. Albus smiled, happy that he had finally found where he belonged.


	4. A New Home

Chapter Four

A New Home

Albus gawked at all the food that lay in front of him, just waiting to be devoured. Golden chickens, creamed potatoes, velvety cakes. He ate and ate to his heart's content.

Sitting next to Albus was Marcus Abel. They talked while they ate about anything and everything from their families, to the tanginess of the citrus sorbet. Soon enough, Albus had made a new friend.

Hours later, It was time to see their new rooms and go to bed. The Slytherin House was large with fancy, green furniture. The boys' dorm was especially large with all of their belongings already unpacked and carefully organized. Albus put on his nightclothes and hopped on to his comfortable bed. He smiled to himself, knowing that he would be very happy here, at his new home.


	5. Serpent Speech

Chapter Five

Serpent Speech

Albus woke up to the warm sunshine filtering through the windows. He smiled happily, thankful for the change. Usually James was the one to wake him, and he didn't do it gently. It usually consisted of either a bucket of ice water or a few Doxies on his face. Albus grimaced, not wanting to relive the time when a Doxie actually crawled into his mouth and bit his tongue.

"Oi, Al!" Marcus called from across the room, "you up?"

"Yeah," Albus responded.

"Crikey," croaked a voice next to Albus, "would you two arseholes keep it down. Some of us still want some shut-eye." Albus looked to his left, only to receive a scowl from the speaker. He had pale, blond hair and a rather pinched face. Albus immediately recognized him as Scorpius Malfoy, his father had been a schoolmate of his parents.

"Sorry," Albus apologized, giving Scorpius a sheepish smile. But he only glowered at him in return. With an irritated "humph", he rolled over, and resumed sleeping.

Later that that morning, during breakfast, Albus decided that he should talk to his brother. He was a third year in Gryffindor, and probably pissed at Albus, but he didn't care. He walked over to his table, and sat down next to James. (Nowadays, at Hogwarts, students could sit anywhere during dining hours.) James looked at him in surprise, "Al?"

"Hullo."

"What're _you_ doing over here?" James asked, sharply.

"I thought maybe I could sit with you," Albus said, his mood deflating. It seemed James was upset about his choice yesterday. Everyone in their family had been a well-respected Gryffindor. And all their rivals were in Slytherin.

"Well," James started, "I really can't talk right now, so go see Rose, or just bother someone else."

"B-but," he stuttered, but James had left, finding a seat as far away from him as possible. Albus looked around, trying to spot Rose. _Maybe she'll be kinder to me,_ Albus hoped. At last, he saw her, eating with her fellow Ravenclaw first years, not taking advantage of their freedom to move around. "Rose."

"Albus! Hullo! How are you? Are you having a good time? Isn't the food delightful?" she spoke at lightning speed.

Albus blinked, taken aback by all her questions, "um, hullo; I'm fine, thanks; I suppose; and yes, it's delicious."

"Excellent!" she beamed. Albus was relieved that she was not upset with him.

"Do you mind, If I sit with you?"

"Of course- I mean yes- wait no- I don't mind- just sit!" Rose laughed.

"Brilliant, thanks!" he replied, and sat down.

After breakfast, the boys returned to their room. Classes wouldn't start until net week. Until then, they had freedom do whatever, or nothing at all. Albus glanced at his friend, Marcus, who was feeding his owl, Xavier. He glanced at his own animal, a Jarvey named Potty. He had wanted to name it "Potter", after his family surname, but his cousin Hugo had taken a liking to call it "Potty", and it stuck.

"Al, do you have an owl, or just Potty?" Marcus snickered.

He sighed, "Just Potty. James has an owl, we're supposed to share it, but I don't think that's gonna happen."

"What!" Marcus was gobsmacked, "if you don't have one, you're supposed to share one with a sibling! Get up, we're going!"

"Going where?" he asked.

"To the Owlery, of course."

The Owlery was a large, smelly room full of feathers and pets. There were rats, snakes, toads, cats, Pygmy Puffs, and obviously, owls.

"Stay here," Marcus demanded.

"Why?"

"I'm buying you an owl!"

"Marcus, I can't let you do that!"

"Shut it, I'm getting you an owl."

There was no use in opposing him, it was final. "Thanks, mate," Albus said, touched by his friend's kindness.

"Right, now stay here and give me a couple minutes."

Albus obediently stood and waited. And waited. And waited. _He's taking much longer than i expected,_ he thought, _it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look around._ He walked over to where the rats were and watched them scurry around nibbling here and there. That got boring fast. He looked at the snakes who were curled around branches, staring at Albus with miserable expressions on their scaly faces. "Must be fun, eh?" he said sarcastically.

 _It isn't._

"Bloody hell!" Albus leaped backwards, not expecting a response. He took a couple of deep breaths, and again, approached the reptiles. "Can you speak?"

 _No,_ one replied.

Albus stared at it. Fascinated. "But you're speaking to me."

 _Rubbish,_ it replied, _you, boy, are speaking to_ us.

"What?"

 _Ask your father, Potter, he'll know._

He stared at it, confused, "what do you mean?" But the serpent just stared blankly at him, as if nothing ever happened.


	6. Oatmeal

Chapter Six

Oatmeal

"Albus! Get up! Breakfast is over! Classes start in fifteen minutes!" Albus opened his eyes and yawned. Standing over him was Marcus, a worried expression on his face, and a plate of food in his hand. "Here eat," he commanded.

"Thanks," Albus replied. He sat up and groggily rubbed his tired eyes. "Fifteen minutes, did you say?"

"Yup."

"Thanks, mate."

"Eat, Potter!"

"Alright, alright," he said, shoveling food into his mouth. As usual, it was fantastic. Except for one thing, on the corner of his plate, was a glob of what looked like chunky vomit. "Ay, Marc, what's this thing here?" he asked.

"Oatmeal," he replied.

"Outmeel?"

"You've never had _oatmeal_ before?"

"No, it looks like vomit."

"It tastes like happiness."

Albus winced, "happy... _vomit_? Disgusting!"

"Eat it."

"No"

"Yes."

"No."

"Just try it, you git."

"It looks gross."

"Bollocks."

"Eat!"

"Fine." He took a bite. It tasted like, like...goodness. He couldn't describe it. It was a sweet, stickiness with tart apples, and soft oats. It was delicious.

Marcus looked at him expectantly. "Well, how is it? Isn't it brilliant?" he said, a triumphant smile on his face.

"It's disgusting," Albus replied.


	7. Herbology

Chapter Seven

Herbology

Albus's first class was Herbology. He had it with his fellow first year Slytherins and Ravenclaws, which meant he'd get to see Rose. He hadn't been in contact with James nor Rosie for the past week, and he almost, _almost,_ missed their constant bickering. Their instructor was Professor Longbottom, and Albus's mother had told him to give "all his love" to Neville.

Their classroom was a large, lively greenhouse. Over 1,000 plant species thrived there. Everyone gathered round the table in the center of the greenhouse, and patiently waited for their professor to arrive.

The greenhouse reminded Albus of his aunt Fleur's garden. Except this was far larger and would probably make her jealous. Albus missed his family. He thought that he'd be fine, considering the fact that he had James, but James hadn't talked to him since their second day at Hogwarts. He hoped they'd speak soon, James was always Albus's idol, even when they were younger. Not being with him made Albus feel lonely, even surrounded by hundreds of peers.

While he was deep in thought, someone tapped sharply on Albus's shoulder. He spun around in surprise, only to find Rose staring intently at him, a scowl on her face.

"You git," she snarled.

"What I do?" he asked, taken aback by her hostility. _What have I done?_ Albus thought. _Maybe James said something to her._ _He probably had._ "Don't listen to him, Rose."

"Bloody hell, Al! What did he ever do to you?"

 _Maybe a stone dropped on her head this morning._ "He exists, Rose."

"You arse! He sends you a letter, needing you, and you ignore it and state that he shouldn't exist! He's really upset! Why must you be so... _stupid_?" she fired.

" _He's_ upset? Brilliant! I'm the one he's been ignoring!" What was wrong with her?

"He told me that he's sent you _four_ letters in the past few days! Is that ignoring?"

"He never sent me a letter!" Albus shouted, getting angrier and angrier, "and why could't he just talk to me?"

"Are you off your trolley? He's been quite busy, preparing for his classes!"

"We had a whole week! Classes started today!" he fumed.

"FINE!" Rose screamed, "you'll be seeing him any minute, anyways. Good luck explaining yourself."

"I'm not seeing him anytime soon, nor will I speak to that moron."

"Bugger off, Al," she growled and sauntered off.

Albus watcher her walk away, her hair swishing, and her hands clenched angrily at her sides. Before she reached her spot at the table, she spun around and stared past him. Albus looked behind him and saw Neville, wearing a dark green cloak and looking rather gloomy.

"Professor," Rose began, shooting a nasty look towards Albus, "I believe Albus has something he'd like to say to you."

 _What?_

"Something," she continued, "about _non-existence._ "

Professor Longbottom looked at Albus, a sad expression on his face. "Say it," he whispered, barely audible, "I understand. Herbology isn't for everyone. Neither am I."

"I-I don't understand!" Albus stuttered. "I haven't said one bad thing about you. Ever! I swear, I don't know what Rose is talking about!"

"We just had this conversation a minute ago, you liar!" Rose yelled, obviously frustrated.

"That was about James!"

"What?"

"I thought we were talking about my brother."

"Albus Severus Potter, are you _kidding_ me?"

"Um, no."


	8. The Power of a Stick

Chapter Eight

The Power of a Stick

Later that day, after Herbology, Albus got to (finally) use his wand. It was thirteen and a half inches made of mahogany with a unicorn hair core. It was a good fit, but still felt odd in his hands.

He and Marcus waited patiently for Professor Gorkins, who apparently was their (rather late) Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Albus was excited to use his wand and produce powerful magic. _I wonder what my Patronus will be?_ His father's Patronus was a powerful stag, his mother a beautiful mare, and James so far was a wee wisp.

"Silence," a firm voice echoed through the room. "To succeed this class you will need patience and the ability to concentrate. Mouths flapping will not be permitted in this classroom."

"Ha, what a load of rubbish," Marcus snorted with laughter. "What're we in? Divination? We-" he moved his mouth, trying to finish, but no sound came out.

"That, was an example of the _silencio_ spell." Professor Gorkins was smiling, his wand now at his side. "An exemplary case in which you'd use it."

The class roared with laughter as Marcus opened his mouth, gaping like a fish.

"That, students," Gorkins said, "is the power of a stick."


End file.
